In Vino Varric
by DreadNot
Summary: Written in response to a request for happy drunk!Hawke on his birthday. Kisses for all!


"Happy birthday, Hawke!"

The merry band of misfits raised their glasses and tankards to a Hawke who grinned from ear to ear as he raised his own glass and drained it to the raucous cheers of his friends and random regulars at the Hanged Man. The liquor warmed him, made his grin spread wider, made him simply happy to be alive.

How many drinks was that now? They had said they were going to toast him once for every year… he was pretty sure they'd reached the years past short pants now.

He licked his lips and reached out for Isabela, pulling her down onto his lap.

"Isabela," he purred, turning the syllables into something like the rise and fall of waves under a ship's hull. "Why don't we spend more time together?"

She chuckled and patted his cheek. "Because you always want to be the center of attention, sweetling, but I forgive you tonight."

"Just tonight?" he pulled a face, thrusting out his lower lip at her.

She put her hands on his cheeks and gave him a kiss he was pretty sure he'd be feeling until his next birthday.

"Shut up and be happy," she admonished him when she pulled away.

"Oh yes, messere," he assured her. "But only if I get one of those from _everyone." _

Looking around the table, Fenris met Hawke's gaze with a challenging stare, Merrill blushed crimson, Anders – sober as usual, spoilsport – chewed his lip and looked away, Aveline rolled her eyes, Sebastian just shook his head, and Varric… Varric, sitting at the head of the table, raised his tankard in another toast to Hawke and laughed.

"I love you all," Hawke blurted, which made Isabela jump off his lap as though he'd just burst into flames.

"Next!" she yelped, and grabbed Fenris by the wrist, tugging him until Hawke could snatch at his wrist and finish pulling him closer.

"That's right," Hawke crowed. He stopped and sniggered – Hawke. Crowed. He amused himself far too much. He thought about sharing, but no one else would probably get it.

"Come on Fenris, it's my birthday. It's a—a—a _tradition!"_

"Well it is now," Varric observed dryly. "You heard the man, Fenris."

Fenris muttered something in Tevinter and leaned in to give Hawke a quick peck on the cheek. It might have worked, but Hawke, a man who could juggle daggers with his eyes closed (if Varric's stories were to be believed) caught the elf by the back of the head and pulled him into a kiss that had half the tavern whooping for more.

He felt a coin thump him in the forehead and picked up a silver off his lap.

"More! More!" Isabela chanted, holding up another silver. "A silver for more, but I'll throw in a _sovereign _if there's tongue!"

Fenris jerked away and thumped back into his chair. "No," he said with such finality that Hawke just left it at that.

He pushed himself out of his seat and braced himself on the back of Merrill's chair, leaning over the little mage, leering genially.

"Have you a kiss for the birthday boy?" he asked.

She blushed right to the tips of her ears, which Hawke found _adorable_. "I… That is…."

She looked around helplessly while the tavern took up the chant, led by Isabela of course, "Merrill! Merrill!"

She nodded tentatively and Hawke leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. Drunk he was, but not a boor.

When he stood up, the entire table – except Fenris and Anders, oddly – said "Awwww."

He kissed her forehead for good measure and took the refill Norah brought him before he moved on.

"What are we at now?" he asked as he raised his glass.

"Dunno," Isabela said. "Still upright, so not enough. Drink!"

Everyone called "Happy birthday!" again and Hawke drained his glass.

"Did I mention that I love you all?" he asked as he braced himself on the back of Merrill's chair until he could sidle over to lean over Sebastian's. "Even you choir boy. Even if you're not drinking. You and Anders. I'd tell you to make it up to me, but y'know, vows and all."

He turned his cheek toward Sebastian and pointed to a spot on his cheekbone above his beard. "So you can plant one right there."

Sebastian laughed with good grace and gave him a brotherly peck on the cheek. "There you go, Hawke, now move on to the next before I break my vows getting drunk off your breath."

"One minute. Got to drain the dragon," Hawke said and weaved his way off to the privy.

After he stayed gone for longer than seemed reasonable, Aveline went to find him and returned with him draped on her like an over-amorous first date.

"He was waylaid by that man who talks all the time. You know the one."

"He knows that I know that he knows what I know. He wanted me to know," Hawke informed everyone solemnly before planting a loud kiss on Aveline's cheek.

"She's going to hurt me for that later, isn't she?" he asked the assembled group.

They nodded in unison while Aveline said "You know it," in a tone as dry as a desert.

"Oops." Hawke untangled himself from Aveline and plopped down in Anders' lap. "Anders, smile."

Anders coughed. "You're heavy."

Hawke's expression was over the top woe. "Anders just said I was fat!"

Merrill threw a peanut at Anders, which prompted the entire table to join in. Soon Hawke and Anders were showered in peanuts.

Anders didn't look too amused, but Hawke just turned it into a game of catching peanuts in his mouth. There was apparently no keeping the man down on his birthday.

He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially in Anders' ear, "You owe me a kiss."

The mage looked around the table at the expectant faces and sighed. He turned his face up to Hawke with all the resignation of a man on his way to his execution.

"Only because it's your birthday." And if his hands were clenched white-knuckled on the arms of his chair, he wasn't among a group of highly observant adventurers whose lives depended upon noticing details, was he?

Hawke, fortunately, was in no condition to notice details. He leaned in to bring his lips to Anders' only to be interrupted by Norah thrusting another glass in his face.

"Oops," he said. "One moment."

He raised his glass, the group cheered, and he killed the contents in one long swallow. After he slammed the glass down on the table, he turned to Anders and kissed him so hard Justice would be feeling it until _his_ next birthday, whenever that was for a Fade spirit.

"Who's left?" he asked before snaking a hand out to grab Norah by the wrist and pull her in for a kiss.

The tavern erupted in cheers and laughter… right after the crack of her slapping his cheek rang out.

"I'm wounded!" he cried, but swatted her backside, dropped a silver in her cleavage, and stood up to move to the head of the table.

He bent over Varric and leaned past him, addressing Bianca. "Bianca, most beautiful and treasured companion, forgive me for what I must do."

He clasped Varric by his cheeks, said, "I love you like a brother I don't want to slap," and gave Varric a sovereign-earning kiss.

After which he slowly slid down to the floor, muttering, "Tired now."

Varric blinked. He blinked again. He touched his lips and then rubbed them with the back of his hand.

"Tell me you all saw that. Even I can't make this shit up."

Hawke started to snore.


End file.
